


The Dragon Prince: Rebellion

by nonameforhire



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Droid Bait, Droid Zym, F/M, Jedi Callum, Mandalorian Rayla, The Dragon Prince/Star Wars AU, again i'll add more tags later probably, i do what i want because i'm the author but it all makes sense yknow, sorry that's a lot of folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22173532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonameforhire/pseuds/nonameforhire
Summary: It is a period of civil war. Rebels have emerged from all over the galaxy, opposing the evil rule of the Galactic Empire, with the Sith Lord Viren at its head, who serves the unseen Emperor. Though the rebels are many, the Empire chases them across the galaxy with orders to kill on sight. After a successful raid on a rebel base on the Mandalorian moon Oberon, Imperial forces are more hopeful than ever.During the battle, a rebel cell leader, code named Thunder, was slain, and his top secret project, known by many rebels to be the last hope of the rebellion, was destroyed as well…along with many Mandalorian forces allied with the rebellion. Many rebels have gone into hiding, and the Empire has only grown stronger.But one group of Mandalorians refuses to succumb. Fueled by the fires of revenge, the Moonshadow clan of Mandalorian rebels races to the planet Katolis to force King Harrow, known by many to have organized the death of Thunder, to pay the blood price for his actions.Meanwhile, a young man sleeps and dreams…
Relationships: Callum & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Ezran & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), others to be added later - Relationship
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	The Dragon Prince: Rebellion

Callum dreamed of lightning.

He dreamed of a forest at night.

He dreamed of the white flare of a blaster firing. The burn scar left in a tree when the bolt of energy missed. Of deep footprints left in the mud during a chase.

He dreamed of rain and thunder.

Then Callum dreamed of a woman in teal battle armor pointing two blaster pistols at the alarmed and exposed face of a stormtrooper.

And he dreamed of her letting him go.

_ BOOM! _

Callum jolted awake with a shout, then tumbled out of bed and landed hard on the floor with a loud  _ thud! _ and a groan. Outside his window, lightning flashed. His head ached something fierce, and he groaned again as he sat up, clutching his forehead.

“Callum?” Ezran’s voice came, his head peeking up from his bed on the other side of the room. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I’m fine, Ez,” Callum said, grimacing as he tried to disentangle himself from his sheets. “Just a bad dream. Go back to bed.”

Instead, Ezran sat up fully to peer out at him. From Ezran’s bedside table, Bait hovered up to his head level, an electronic yellow eye flashing purple for just a moment, a sure sign the droid was nervous.

“It’s storming outside,” Ezran said, hugging his blanket to his chest. Bait beeped softly in confirmation.

Callum stumbled a little as he got to his feet, his headache lessening by the minute. But instead of climbing back into bed and going back to sleep, as his drowsiness demanded, he stepped over his discarded blankets and crossed the room to go stand by Ezran’s bedside. Bait was already hovering over Ezran’s lap, beeping quietly in support. Callum smiled a little at the sight.

“Yeah, it is,” he said, sitting on the edge of Ezran’s bed. “But it’s okay, because we’re inside.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Ezran hugged his blanket tighter to his chest as thunder boomed again outside. “What was your dream about? You were muttering stuff in your sleep.”

“Oh,” Callum said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh…”

It had been a rather strange dream, now that he thought about it. It had almost looked like it was happening in the forest outside the castle, which made sense, in a strange way. He’d heard that dreams were the subconscious’s way of talking to you, and he’d certainly spent plenty of time in the forest as a child. But he’d certainly never seen any armor like the one that woman had been wearing before…it must have just been his imagination. Perhaps he could sketch it later, if he could remember what it looked like in the morning.

He realized rather suddenly that Ezran was still looking for an answer of some sort when Bait bumped into his hand, beeping inquisitively.

“It really didn’t mean anything,” Callum said, tapping Bait on the top of his head so the droid would give him some space. “Just some random dream, I guess.”

Ezran nodded with another yawn. “Yeah, okay.” 

Callum tapped his little brother on the forehead. “You should go back to sleep.”

Ezran grinned at him and grabbed a jelly tart from some hidden place in his bed―seriously, how did he keep hiding those so well?―and took a bite out of it before he laid back down in bed. “You should too.”

Callum took the jelly tart out of his brother’s hands and finished it off with a large bite. “And I would, if someone wasn’t keeping me up.” He wiped the jelly on his thumb off on the metal of Bait’s hull. The little drone’s eye flashed red before it zoomed back to his spot on top of Ezran’s bushy hair and beeped twice at Callum.

“Bait says that was rude,” Ezran translated with a yawn.

Callum opened his mouth for a comeback, but his body forced him to yawn as well. It had to be the early hours of the morning; they really should both be asleep.

“G’night, Ez,” Callum said, patting the boy’s hand.

“Good night, Callum.”

When Callum fell asleep again, his dreams consisted of the girl in the teal armor.

**< |>**

Rayla was screwed.

Rayla was completely, totally,  _ utterly  _ screwed _. _

She was supposed to be back an hour ago. Instead, she was busy pacing around a clearing in the forest, a blaster pistol in each hand, chewing on her bottom lip like there was no tomorrow.

Runaan was going to  _ kill  _ her.

Rayla groaned and shoved her pistols back into their holsters at her hips. Her helmet was fogging up with how heavily she was breathing. She ripped it off her head with a sigh and hooked it onto her belt before running her hands through her sweaty hair.

How could she have messed up so badly? She’d had one job― _ one job! _ ―and now she had royally screwed it up and put everyone in danger.

She could still see the face of that stormtrooper, so different when he wasn’t wearing his garish helmet. Were all stormtroopers like that underneath their helmets? Afraid? No…terrified. That stormtrooper had been terrified.

And…and Rayla had been terrified too. Her blasters had been shaking in her hands. She’d never  _ killed _ anyone before. She’d been in fights, of course; every Mandalorian was used to combat. But she’d only ever sparred against other Mandalorians, and had never once aimed to kill.

And it was  _ different. _ Everything was different when your enemy was kneeling at your feet…defenseless… _ scared _ …she’d been that way, once.

So how could she have inflicted death on someone who was a  _ person _ underneath their helmet, just like her?

So, in the end, she had let him go.

…but she also had a stun feature on her blast pistols, so she’d knocked him out. Now, this stormtrooper was unconscious and tied to a tree nearby.

And she was so,  _ so  _ screwed.

“Rayla.”

She jumped guiltily and then cursed under her breath. It was Runaan, trying to reach her via the commlink built into the vambrace at her wrist. She glanced over at the unconscious stormtrooper tied to the nearby tree and cleared her throat before lifting her wrist to her chin and pressing the green transmit button.

“Heyyyy, Runaan,” Rayla said, then immediately winced. She even  _ sounded _ guilty. She coughed and tried again. “I mean…Runaan. This is Rayla, reporting in.” Great. Now she sounded like the stormtrooper whose life she’d spared.

“All right…” Runaan’s voice came again. It was hard to tell if he was suspicious with all the static, but then again…when  _ wasn’t _ Runaan suspicious? “Report. What happened to the trooper who discovered us?”

Another curse escaped her mouth. She was  _ so  _ dead. “Uh…yeah! Yep. He was…taken care of! He…won’t be a problem! No sir!” Geez, when did she become this terrible at lying? She grew up with  _ Runaan. _ She should have become at least proficient at it by now.

He hesitated for a moment (during which she thought she might go through cardiac arrest) before finally responding. “Okay then. Get back to camp. The others were getting worried about you.”

She’d known him long enough to know that it really meant that  _ he _ had been getting worried about her, and another flash of guilt made her grimace. If he ever learned the truth about this, he would pop a blood vessel. As long as the stormtrooper stayed unconscious and tied to the tree until nightfall, there wouldn’t be an issue.

Rayla sighed again and fixed her helmet over her head once more. Everything would be fine. Hopefully.

When Rayla jumped into the tree to scout her position, she didn’t see the blue eyes of the stormtrooper memorizing her every move.

**< |>**

Callum’s head was aching just slightly as he and Ezran (and by extension Bait) walked through the forest outside the castle. Though he had gotten plenty of sleep despite his dreams, for some reason this headache wouldn’t leave him. Harrow had been somewhat concerned over breakfast, in the large dining room that all of the king’s loved ones and advisors shared, and it had taken some convincing for Harrow to let Ezran and Callum out for their allotted morning adventures in the woods. But, somehow, they’d managed it, and without an army of stormtroopers to escort them either.

The Empire had come to the planet Katolis when Callum was just a little kid, so he had grown used to the sight of white stormtroopers patrolling the castle. King Harrow had been very cooperative with the Empire, especially considering that the main enforcer―Lord Viren―had been one of his childhood friends and had grown up on Katolis. As far as Callum knew, every person in the military on Katolis was a stormtrooper. They were Imperials, castle guards, pretty much anything that had to do with security.

And a great many of them were unbearable.

Callum didn’t  _ really _ have anything against the Empire. Sure, they were a bit harsh in some reaches of the galaxy, but he was sure they had a good reason to be. Probably (he didn’t really know much about the other sections of the galaxy; his education had focused mostly on the history of Katolis exclusively). And he respected the stormtroopers for protecting his family, but…really, did they have to be so condescending? Many of the stormtroopers treated Callum (and sometimes even Ezran, even though he was the crown prince) with disdain, and were not afraid to hide it. It was one of the many reasons Callum valued these morning walks with his brother; they had time away from those troopers without making it seem like they were up to something nefarious. Among other things, stormtroopers were incredibly paranoid. He supposed  _ that _ part had to do with the rebellion that had popped up in other sections of the galaxy. He knew even less about the rebellion than he did about the Empire’s exploits on planets other than Katolis.

Callum winced as Bait droned very close to his head, filling his ears with the buzzing sound of his photoreceptors. The reprogrammed probe droid made a series of beeps and whirrs that Callum had long ago learned was an imitation of laughter, and he scowled as Bait whirred over to Ezran’s side.

“One of these days,” Callum said, adjusting the strap of the sketchbook hanging at his waist, “that droid is going to barrel right into someone’s head.”

Bait beeped indignantly in response as his eye flashed pink. Ezran laughed and looked back at Callum, saying, “He says he’d only do it to someone who deserved it.”

“Right,” Callum replied with an eye roll. “Well, it’ll probably be you, then.”

“Hey!”

He grinned as Ezran protested and Bait’s eye turned pink once more. Instinctively, Callum ducked, and Bait went flying over his head, zooming into the trees beyond when he was unable to correct himself quickly. Ezran giggled and ran after him, and Callum smiled to himself as he followed at a slower pace.

“Uh…Callum?” Ezran’s voice came. He was just barely out of view, hidden by the thick trunk of a large tree. “You should come and see this!”

Callum’s gut lurched in worry as he heard the panic in Ezran’s voice, and he scrambled over, tripping over a rock in his hurry. When he caught up to his brother, he nearly tripped again as he found himself at a loss for words at what he was seeing.

There was a stormtrooper tied to the trunk of a large tree with thick green vines, his helmet lying discarded nearby and his blaster nowhere in sight. Callum had to blink to be sure of it, but as he took a step closer he realized that he did, indeed, recognize the trooper. It was Soren, the captain of all the troopers located in the castle.

It came as a punch to the gut when Callum realized that he’d wandered into the part of the forest from his dream just a few hours before, and that Soren’s face matched that of the alarmed stormtrooper in his dream. All that was missing from the scene was the woman in battle armor.

“Wha―Soren?” Callum exclaimed, blinking at him. Soren’s head popped up to look at him, and his eyes lit up with hope.

“Heya, step-prince,” Soren said with a lopsided grin. “Mind cutting me free?”

**< |>**

Oh no. Oh  _ no _ .

She had to have the worst luck in the entire galaxy.

She was going to be discovered…by a  _ prince? _ One who tripped over a  _ rock _ not too long ago? Runaan was going to  _ disown _ her.

“Soren?” the boy with the brown hair asked, his brow furrowing. “What―What happened? Why are you tied to a tree?”

“It’s a…long and complicated story,” the stormtrooper―whose name was apparently Soren―said. “Can you just…untie me? Please?”

The “step-prince” frowned. He appeared to be about Rayla’s age, seventeen (or perhaps sixteen), and he was totally unarmed. He was wearing a tan overtunic and a brown undertunic, which seemed a little…underdressed for someone who was supposedly a prince. He also had a strap across his shoulders that was attached to a small book at his waist…possibly for drawing? That skill was undervalued in the galaxy.

Strangely, this prince was wearing a red vambrace on his left arm, even though he by no means appeared to be a warrior. Rayla squinted at it, hesitant to use the rangefinder on her helmet to zoom in, for the movement could give her away. From what she could see, the vambrace seemed to be a relic of the Clone Wars, from the way it was crafted―simple, but functional. Sort of like stormtrooper armor, if it were actually functional. But regardless, this boy was too young to have fought in the Clone Wars. Perhaps one of his parents…?

Rayla stifled a curious sound in her throat as she narrowed her eyes at the boy. She…also supposed he was cute, in a strange, Imperial way. He certainly wasn’t ugly.

So it was a shame that she was going to have to knock him out, too.

Rayla would have sighed if there wasn’t a chance of this prince hearing her. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have put a civilian in harms way, even if they were one of the princes of the planet. But she’d already made a mistake when she hadn’t killed the stormtrooper below her, and this was the price she had to pay. Her blasters were still in stun mode, so it would be as easy as aiming and―

“Callum!” a third, younger voice exclaimed. “You’re not strong enough to get those vines undone by yourself!”

Rayla blinked as a third boy stepped forward, this one much younger. He had dark brown hair and umber-colored skin along with bright blue eyes that shone with curiosity and―was…that a probe droid hovering by his head? Now she was  _ really  _ squinting down at the forest floor, trying to catch a look at it.

It had been painted yellow and blue, and it would be a big problem if she pulled the trigger on the boy with the sketchbook. Even if the droid had been reprogrammed, small probe droids like this one still had transmitting capabilities. If she attacked either of these princes (for she assumed the younger boy had to be the crown prince of the planet) the droid would be sure to send out a distress signal to everyone in a three mile radius.

Okay, so maybe Runaan had a point about the whole “killing-your-enemies-before-they-can-alert-the-whole-planet-to-your-presence” thing. Maybe she should have listened to him in the first place instead of letting her apprehension get in the way of things.

Rayla cursed as quietly as she could under her breath and took her finger off the trigger of her blaster. Even if that probe droid hadn’t been a factor, she wouldn’t shoot someone in front of a child, no matter what side that child happened to be on. She kept her weapons at hand just in case and resigned herself to watch what happened below.

“Well, what do you suggest, Ezran?” The older prince―Callum? She was going to assume his name was Callum instead of Camel, if she’d heard correctly―asked, stepping toward the younger boy.

Ezran grinned at Callum and dug into the tool belt at his waist (this boy had to be at least twelve, and he was wearing a tool belt and brown overalls? What kind of princes were these boys?) to withdraw a small, low-tech pair of clipping shears, which would be perfect for cutting through the vines Rayla had so painstakingly tied around that stormtrooper.

The droid next to the young boy beeped out something, and Ezran giggled. Callum sighed, almost as if he were used to the droid making fun of him.

Soren coughed impatiently as Callum took the shears from Ezran. “Uh, hello? Still tied to a tree here? I could still use that help, step-prince.”

Callum’s frown returned, and he put a hand on his hip. “You know, I don’t  _ have _ to cut you free…”

“No!  _ Please  _ cut me free, Callum, these vines are  _ really  _ itchy!”

Callum crossed his arms. “Only if you promise to stop calling me ‘step-prince.’”

She couldn’t see Soren’s face, but she imagined the stormtrooper grimacing. They  _ were  _ known for being bullies. She suddenly felt a smidgen worse about not doing the job right when she had the chance. She  _ hated _ bullies.

“Ugh, fine,” Soren’s voice came. “Just…cut me free already! I have to file a report about this.”

Callum moved out of sight as he stepped closer to cut the trooper free. Rayla stayed perfectly still on the tree branch she was perched on. She was just lucky Soren had apparently assumed that she’d left when she’d climbed up the tree, or that he had woken up after she was out of sight. Either way, she was done for if this “Callum” suddenly decided to look up.

Ezran watched curiously as snipping and grunting noises came from below. Next to the crown prince’s head, the yellow and blue probe droid whirred quietly. Rayla silently aimed one of her blaster pistols for the droid, just in case something were to go wrong, then immediately decided against it. She was an excellent shot, but she didn’t want to risk hitting the child. No mission was worth that.

“What―” Another loud grunt from below. “―are these vines―made of?”

Rayla had to stifle a snort. She wished she could see the older prince struggling. It was probably the only amusing part of this situation.

“Got it!” Callum’s voice came, and a moment later there came the sound of vines thudding to the ground.

“Ah!” Soren exclaimed, and Rayla could hear him getting to his feet. She stayed perfectly still. “Thanks, step-prince!”

“Soren!” Callum protested in response, tripping after the stormtrooper as the older teen stretched. “You said you wouldn’t call me that anymore!”

Rayla frowned. There was no clear shot for her to take. There was no way for her to stun both Callum  _ and  _ Soren  _ and  _ disable that drone  _ and  _ somehow get that young boy to be silent.

How could she have made  _ so many  _ mistakes in  _ so little  _ time? If she wasn’t so horrified, she’d probably be impressed with herself.

Soren stretched his neck and stood up straight. Callum trailed after him, shoulders slumped in contrast. 

“What  _ happened  _ to you, Soren?” Ezran asked. The probe droid alighted on his shoulder.

“Not important!” Soren exclaimed with what Rayla assumed was mock bravado―either that, or he was just that stupid. “But we should get back to the castle right now! I have a transmission to make.”

Rayla cursed. For a moment, she thought Callum might have heard her, for he suddenly tensed. But a moment later, he spoke directly to his stormtrooper friend.

“You wouldn’t have happened to be attacked by a woman in battle armor, would you?”

Rayla froze. Soren froze. The probe droid and the small child froze.

Had this klutzy prince somehow managed to see her? Was she really that bad at being a Mandalorian?

Soren turned to look at Callum, a good foot taller than the prince. “How did you know about that?” He took a menacing step forward, and Callum lifted his hands in surrender.

“I-I don’t know!” he exclaimed, his voice going up an octave higher than usual. “I j-just had a…a weird dream and I was take-taking a guess!”

Soren narrowed his eyes at Callum. Rayla did the same from her position in the tree. Surely this boy couldn’t be serious?

“You keep quiet about this,” Soren growled to Callum. “My dad will  _ kill _ me if he finds out what happened. And then  _ I’ll  _ kill  _ you _ .”

Callum gulped loud enough for Rayla to hear. “Yep. Yeah. My lips are sealed.”

Soren glanced over at Ezran and his droid, but they were already giving the stormtrooper thumbs up. Ezran was, at least. His droid had zoomed behind his head, it’s one large photoreceptor flashing purple, oddly enough.

“Good,” Soren said. “Now, let’s get back to the castle.”

Callum cleared his throat as Soren took the lead, and Rayla wasn’t sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or of frustration as the group moved back toward the castle. She was more concerned with why this stormtrooper was so dead set on no one finding out about the fact that he’d been stunned. Perhaps it was an honor thing; that, at least, she could understand. But something about that didn’t feel right.

She made a split second decision and jumped silently to the branch of another, smaller tree. The wood creaked slightly, but not enough to alert the boys below.

It was easy to follow them, really. She thought that this “Soren” character would be more alert after being stunned, but he seemed so determined on returning to the castle he’d come from that he had no clue he was being followed.

Strangely, Rayla found that her biggest challenge to remaining undiscovered was the eldest prince. He seemed…oddly aware of his surroundings, which she wouldn’t have expected considering that she’d only seen him for ten minutes at the most and half that time had been spent with him being incredibly clumsy.

Nevertheless, she had to be extra careful with both Callum and the probe droid in this group. Probe droids, reprogrammed or not, had incredibly sensitive hearing receptors, which meant she had to be even quieter than she usually was.

In all honesty, she wasn’t quite sure why she was following the group. At best, she’d have an opportunity to fix her mistake without endangering the child or exposing herself. At worst, she’d fall out of the tree and be captured (and probably tortured) by the enemy. But what was a mission without a few risks?

Eventually, the group reached a crossroads between one path that Rayla knew led back to the castle and one that led back into the woods. Callum and Ezran stepped onto the logical path, but Soren stepped onto the other path, much to the confusion of everyone involved.

“C’mon, princes,” Soren said. “We’re taking the quicker path today.”

Callum and Ezran shared a look, and Rayla used their momentary distraction to drop as quietly as she could from her tree branch and to the ground below; the trees on either path had branches that were too thin and weak to support her weight. She was lucky to have gotten as far as she did considering that she was weighed down by armor as well. She crouched down and peered around the tree trunk right as Ezran began to speak.

“Dad says we’re not supposed to take that way. He says it…”

“It’s a bit dangerous for Ez,” Callum said, slinging an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders. “It leads to the rafters in…in our mother’s old room.”

Soren sighed as Rayla’s eyes narrowed behind her helmet. “I know that, Callum! But it’s the fastest way back, and I  _ really  _ need to talk to my dad!”

“Fine. You take that way back, and Ez and I will―”

“No!” Soren insisted, a little forcefully. Rayla cursed  _ again  _ under her breath. Seriously, how hard was it to knock out a stormtrooper twice?

He cleared his throat. “I mean, uh, no. You guys should come with me. It’s…it’s not safe in the forest right now. Lots of, uh…kath hounds on the loose.”

Callum didn’t seem to buy it. “Kath hounds? They never come near the castle!”

“They…uh, they did this morning!”

“And that’s why you were tied to a tree,” Ezran snickered. His droid seemed to mimic the sound.

“Exactly!” Soren said, pointing at the boy.

Rayla rolled her eyes. This stormtrooper was an  _ idiot. _ He was just lucky these boys had found him, otherwise he never would have found a way to free himself.

But this passage that led into the castle…that could be promising. Runaan would definitely want to know about this. It would certainly be easier than attempting to scale the cliffside the castle was built on by hand. None of the Mandalorians on the planet were equipped with jetpacks―they were too loud and attracted too much attention.

Her own attention was drawn back to the group of boys when Callum and Ezran started to snicker again, and Soren seemed to realize what he’d said wrong.

“Wait, I mean―!” The poor stormtrooper growled in frustration and grabbed Callum by his outer tunic. “You’re both coming with me. It’ll be fine. Understand?”

“Cool!” Ezran said before Callum could stutter out another half-brained response. “I’ve never been this way before! It’ll be cool!”

Soren grinned at Ezran as he released the prince’s brother. “You bet it will. This way.”

Soren disappeared into the underbrush, and Ezran and his droid followed him almost immediately. It was Callum who hesitated, looking over her shoulder―and up in the tree where Rayla had been perched just a minute before. She put her hands on her blasters, holstered at her side.

But after a moment, the boy turned away with a shrug and followed his brother and the stormtrooper. Rayla let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

She had a lot to tell Runaan about.

**< |>**

Soren kept the office dark and locked the door before he took a deep breath and made the holocall. His fingers bounced nervously on his thigh as he waited for the connection. He sure was taking a lot of risks today; his head still ached from how the Mandalorian had stunned him.

Just when he was sure that he’d have to call again in a few minutes, there came a soft  _ beep _ from the transmission table. Immediately, Soren got down on one knee and kept his eyes on the ground. He’d learned the hard way that this was the best way to greet his father.

“My son,” Viren’s voice came.

“Father,” Soren replied, daring to look up at the holoprojection.

Lord Viren stood in a miniature hologram on the table. His arms were crossed as he glared out at his son. Like most Sith, he wore all black, but Soren’s eyes snagged on the lightsaber on Viren’s belt. He shuddered once before continuing.

“Everything is going according to plan,” Soren said, clearing his throat. “The Mandalorians have no idea we’re expecting them.”

“And they’re on the premises?” There was no pride in his voice. Never any pride. Not in Soren, at least. Viren’s voice was only ever full of calculations that Soren didn’t really understand.

“There was one Mandalorian who attacked me this morning,” Soren replied. “She had to be just the first.”

“Excellent.” 

Soren wasn’t sure if the word was meant to be praise of him, or of the situation in general, but he let himself believe the former. If just for a moment.

“Prepare the other forces in the castle for the trap. Make sure they do not breathe a word of it to anyone else.” Viren hesitated. “Not even Harrow.”

Soren blinked and looked up at his father’s eyes―a mistake. Even through the hologram, Soren could read the coldness hidden there. 

Still, he couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth. “But father, the Mandalorians are here to kill―”

“I am well aware of why the Mandalorians are on the planet,” Viren interrupted. “But secrecy is key, here. If even the servants catch wind of the truth, there’s a chance the Mandalorians could find out as well.”

Soren opened his mouth to protest again, but quickly snapped it shut when he saw that cold look in his father’s eyes intensify.

“I…yes, father,” Soren settled for saying. “Those Mandalorians won’t know what hit them.”

“Good,” Viren said, straightening. “This is just the beginning of the extermination of those rebels.”

Soren’s eyes trailed past the hologram of his father, to the deactivated droid sitting on the workshop table just a few feet away.

“Yes, father,” he forced himself to say.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

**< |>**

Callum was…very confused, to say the least.

He’d felt strange all morning―like there was a lead ball sitting in his gut, dragging him down and whittling his nerves down to the knife’s edge. It had started with his headache, and then when he’d found Soren tied to a  _ tree, _ things had only gotten worse. Callum had felt like every nerve in his body was trying to tell him something then…almost like they were being watched. He’d dismissed it at first, but Soren’s reaction to Callum’s question about the woman in armor only heightened his sense of alarm.

And then he thought he’d heard a rustling in the trees, when they’d reached that fork in the path. He thought he’d been imagining things, but…when he’d looked up in the tree, and found nothing, the horrible feeling of paranoia hadn’t gone away. It had only heightened.

And it was driving him  _ insane. _

He’d been wandering around the castle all morning and for some of the afternoon, trying to rid himself of the anxiety that he was feeling for no apparent reason. He’d done all of his usual tricks to try and alleviate anxiety: going to the castle’s library and reading for a while, surfing the holonet for music, even going as far as to attempt physical exercise to try and take his mind off things.

He made it about a step into the courtyard before he remembered that A: he was in no way athletic and fell on his face more often than not, and B: someone was already using the courtyard to train.

More accurately, Claudia was using the courtyard to completely  _ decimate  _ the training droids.

The “training” droids in question were fully functional, if old and retired, battle droids from the Clone Wars. As soon as he saw them, Callum scrambled back so that he was at the mouth of the hallway that led to the courtyard―well out of range of the droids, but still close enough to see what was happening.

It was well known, at least on Katolis, that Claudia was apprenticed to her father, Lord Viren―one of the people at the very top of the Empire. And it was known across the galaxy that Viren was a powerful force-wielder, though Callum never could remember his exact title. All he knew was what the stormtroopers sometimes whispered about: how Viren had discovered that the Jedi of old had been betraying the Republic, and had defeated them with the clone troopers before things could get too out of hand.

As such, it made sense that Viren would have lots of artifacts lying around, and that included both droids and the old weapons of the Jedi. Claudia had become known as a bit of a collector of the latter, even though she’d crafted her own―what was it called? A lightsaber?―some time ago. Callum wasn’t really surprised when he saw her using a blue lightsaber instead of her normal red one. He leaned against the wall and watched, fascinated with the weapon.

The droids in question didn’t seem to be much of a threat, even though he knew that their blasters didn’t have a stun setting on them. They were vaguely humanoid in shape, though their heads were shaped more like bananas than anything else. They kept a constant barrage of blaster fire on her as they attempted to advance, but it was clear that she had advanced well beyond their means.

The blue lightsaber thrummed in her hand as she deflected bolt after bolt back at the droids, looking almost bored. She strode toward the droids casually, and whenever she got close to one, she sliced it neatly in half with the blade in her hands. Callum’s eyes felt like they would pop out of his head when he saw how the metal glowed afterward, like a volcano had spilled lava on the insides of the droids.

He was so distracted by watching the droids be destroyed that it was only the intense feeling of panic in his gut for no apparent reason that snapped him out of it and had him ducking instinctively―right before a blaster bolt slammed into the wall where his head had been a moment before.

Callum gaped at the smoking hole in the wall as he straightened, putting both hands on his gut as if that could explain what had just happened.

What… _ had _ just happened?

Fortunately, Claudia seemed to realize that there was someone in the crossfire, for when he looked back over at the fight, she’d disengaged her blue lightsaber. But the droids showed no sign of stopping―that is, before she raised her hands and seemed to  _ push _ at the air, and―

―and all the droids went flying, like an invisible force had plowed into them and shoved them against the wall, where they sparked and shattered into pieces.

Callum breathed a sigh of relief. He would certainly never make the mistake of watching Claudia while she trained again.

When he was younger, he might have thought her display was amazing. Now he was simply intimidated by it. He’d spent much time around Claudia over the years, and it hadn’t escaped his notice how much more…aggressive her training had become. He’d made the mistake of witnessing one of the rare training sessions that she’d had with her father a year before, and what he’d seen had…not been pleasant. But Claudia was still his friend, even if he was no longer as smitten with her as he had once been.

“Callum!” Claudia exclaimed, clipping the blue lightsaber to her belt and stepping over a destroyed battle droid. “What are you doing here? You could have been―”

“Killed?” Callum said with a gulp, looking back at the burn in the wall. “Yeah. I know.”

“I was going to say  _ hurt, _ but yeah, that works too.” Claudia somehow managed to send him a smile amidst the destruction of the courtyard.

Normally, Callum might have returned the smile. As it was, he was far too distracted by everything that had happened so far that day to do much more than give her a grimace in response.

“What’s wrong, Callum?” Claudia said, coming to a stop in front of him. Despite his recent growth spurt, she still towered over him. Like most days, she was wearing her specialized Imperial armor with the symbol of the Empire emblazoned on the side of her sleeves. The sight made him vaguely uncomfortable for reasons that he couldn’t quite explain―but he somehow managed to dismiss it as part of the strange happenings of the day.

“Callum?”

He blinked as he realized that he hadn’t quite responded to her question. He rubbed his eyes and did his best to look her in the eyes. His headache still hadn’t quite gone away yet. “Yeah, sorry, Claudia. I just didn’t sleep very well the night before. I’m a little…spacey, I guess.”

Claudia snorted as if he had just made some sort of clever joke. “Well, that’s funny, considering that we’re not on a spaceship right now!”

Callum was really too tired to understand the joke as she proceeded to collapse into a series of snorts and giggles. Even though he knew it to be true, it was hard to reconcile this Claudia with the one he had just seen destroying the droids still lying in the middle of the courtyard.

When she noticed that he wasn’t laughing along, she straightened, frowning at him. “Get it? Because “spacey” is like “space,” and to get to space, you need a―”

“Oh,” Callum said with a light chuckle. “Sorry. Have I mentioned that I’m tired?” He rubbed his eyes again and pointed to the lightsaber at her waist with his free hand. “Is that one new?”

“Oh! Yes it is!” Claudia’s eyes lit up excitedly as she unclipped the silver lightsaber from her waist to show it to him.

He didn’t know much (or…anything, really) about lightsabers, but he appreciated it when he got a chance to look at them, which wasn’t very often. The one in front of him―he made sure to keep his face away from the end that became an energy blade―as he examined the foreign piece of technology.

It certainly wasn’t the most elaborate or prettiest of lightsabers that Claudia had collected. The whole weapon was a plain silver color, with simple ridges around the grip. He knew nothing about weapons or combat, even though he was a prince―he’d almost taken off his own head and that of the stormtroopers around the castle when he’d at least attempted to participate in blaster training―so it was really just a guess when he assumed that those ridges were to help the person hold on to the lightsaber.

“Where did you get it?” Callum found himself asking, even though he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to hear the answer or not.

“Oh, uh…” Claudia clipped the lightsaber back on her belt and shot Callum another smile that seemed very guilty. “My father has so many that he won’t mind if I add another to a collection of my own.”

Callum hopped backwards anxiously, the thought of Lord Viren finding him with a lightsaber that had been stolen from him enough to make that nervous feeling in his gut double. Everyone knew how ruthless Soren and Claudia’s father could be.

“Oh, relax,” Claudia said, patting the lightsaber at her waist. She must have misinterpreted his anxiety, for the next words she said were, “My dad took it from a Jedi who, uh…didn’t need it anymore.”

“Oh!” Callum said, and for some reason that didn’t make him feel better…even though the Jedi were supposed to have been the enemies of the people, or at least that’s what the government had said. “Uh…that’s…good?”

Claudia grinned with a nod before she looked over at the mess in the courtyards with a wince. “I should probably clean this up before my dad gets here.”

He felt that horrible feeling in his stomach jump on top of his heart and perch there. “L-Lord Viren is coming to Katolis?”

She blinked once, and then grimaced again, worse than before. “Uh...don’t tell anyone I said that. It’s supposed to be a surprise. I think only your step-dad knows.”

Callum shuddered. Viren was coming to the castle. Whenever he did visit, it was normally celebrated as much as Empire Day, but this was…unannounced. If King Harrow was the only one who knew about it, then that wasn’t a good sign.

So…maybe this bad feeling in his gut wasn’t just an overactive imagination.

**< |>**

“Bait!” Ezran called, jumping around the corner dramatically. “Gotcha!”

The probe droid beeped in protest as his eye flashed red. He hovered up from the floor to float near Ezran’s shoulder.

“It was too twenty seconds!”

Another series of angry beeps. Bait bumped into his arm grumpily.

“No, I don’t care what your internal timers say! I’m twelve, I know how to count!”

Bait beeped and whirred out a response as his eye flashed pink.

“Haha, very funny, Bait,” Ezran said, but he did smile and pat the droid on top of his dome. “You’re just very bad and hide-and-seek.”

Bait started to respond, but Ezran hushed him as a pair of stormtroopers walked past. The two guards shot Ezran and Bait a strange look, but kept to themselves. Ezran was grateful; he didn’t like the stormtroopers, or the way that they seemed to dislike him. He preferred to avoid them as much as possible, for he didn’t like the judgemental looks he could always feel them giving him despite the helmets that covered their faces.

Bait whirred inquisitively at Ezran after the stormtroopers had passed. Ezran patted his droid on the head and gave him a half-hearted smile.

“I’m okay, Bait. Come on. Let’s go play hide-and-seek or tag or something.”

Bait beeped as his eye turned pink and he flew around Ezran’s head once before darting down the hallway.

“Tag it is!” Ezran exclaimed with a giggle. “Hold on, Bait! You know I can’t run that fast!”

Bait whirred something rather vulgar back, and Ezran put more effort into keeping up with the droid. 

It all came to a stop rather suddenly when Bait hit the brakes on his internal motivator and came to a buzzing stop in the air, focused on something ahead of them. Ezran didn’t even notice until he tapped on Bait’s hull. When the droid didn’t react, Ezran followed his line of sight.

They’d wandered into the part of the castle that was mostly offices and bedrooms. Ezran didn’t go there all that often, for there was a chance that someone would try to get him to take a nap, despite the fact that he was nearly thirteen. Despite that, he instantly recognized where he was.

There was one particular office that no one was granted access to―not even his dad. Ezran got around the castle a fair amount, and he’d heard rumors that the office was used by none other than the frightening Lord Viren, but he didn’t believe it. All he knew was that the office was off limits, and he hadn’t discovered a way in yet (he’d tried; he was a curious child).

So it was very interesting when Ezran saw none other than Soren emerging from the office, looking like he’d seen some sort of scary monster.

Ezran cocked his head curiously at the sight as the doors closed behind Soren, who didn’t appear to see him. The older boy looked around the hallway twice before taking his helmet from off his belt, fixing it on his head, and striding off down the hallway as if he had never been there.

“Well, that’s odd, isn’t it―Bait? Bait, where’d you go?”

Ezran blinked and looked around as he suddenly realized that his droid companion was no longer by his shoulder. He had a brief moment of panic―the stormtroopers had made it clear that if they found the probe droid alone, he would be turned into scrap metal, regardless of the fact that he belonged to the crown prince of the planet.

But then he heard a beep from above, and looked up to find Bait levitating several feet above his head, just a bit below the ceiling. His eye was firmly fixed on the now-closed door, and he seemed to be beeping things quietly to himself.

“Bait?” Ezran called, looking around nervously. He wasn’t sure if Bait’s behavior would incite any nearby stormtroopers if they saw it, but he didn’t want to find out.

Luckily, Bait seemed to come to his robotic senses, for he quickly descended to come back to a rest near Ezran’s shoulder. Before Ezran could scold the droid, however, he began beeping and whirring so fast that Ezran could hardly understand him. The only word he was really able to catch was “droid.”

“Bait!” Ezran said, trying his best to keep his voice down. There weren’t any stormtroopers in the hallway yet, but he didn’t want to give them any reason to investigate. Ezran didn’t like the stormtroopers anymore than they liked him. “Calm down! I can’t understand anything that you’re saying!”

Bait made a whirring sound that sounded suspiciously like a huff of frustration as his eye flashed red. Instead of attempting to repeat himself slowly, like Ezran had expected him to do, Bait beeped again―telling Ezran to watch, rather than listen―and turned on his holoprojector.

Ezran blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden blue light of the hologram. Bait hardly ever used his holoprojector, for it used up a significant amount of power, even though he’d been modified a long time ago to be solar-powered instead of relying on the recharging of his power cells through traditional (and much more slow) means. So Ezran was completely unprepared for the image that sat in the middle of the air.

It was a playback of what Ezran had just seen, with Soren coming out of his father’s office looking pretty suspicious. However, it was closer and from a different angle, and for a split second Ezran thought he could see inside the office―but what he saw must have been a part of his imagination. 

“Wait,” Ezran said, frowning. “Can you zoom in and play it again?”

Bait beeped in agreement, clearly happy that Ezran had caught onto what he was trying to say. He did as he was told, and this time Ezran did his best to pay as much attention as possible to the holoprojection.

It was only a few seconds long, but thankfully Bait had put the video on repeat, which gave Ezran plenty of time to figure out what it was that he was actually seeing. Bait had focused the projection on the closing door, and Ezran squinted at the video as he tried to discern what was actually inside the office.

“Freeze image,” Ezran commanded, right as the door was open to the fullest.

Bait did as he was told right on time, and Ezran had to take a moment to understand what exactly the video had paused on.

There…appeared to be some kind of droid sitting on a table inside Viren’s office. An astromech, if Ezran was seeing it correctly, but that couldn’t be right. Astromechs weren’t allowed in the castle, regardless of circumstances. In fact, it was rare to find any sort of droid in the castle, for Ezran’s father had fought in the Clone Wars and had a bit of an issue with most droids―except for Bait, of course. The only other exception was Claudia and her training droids, and only because she destroyed them right away (which Ezran didn’t really like to watch).

Of course, it was  _ Viren’s  _ office, and Ezran knew that Harrow would sometimes bend the rules for his friend (maybe more than sometimes). Still…Ezran found his curiosity piqued. He’d never really met an astromech before, but he’d seen plenty of models via the holonet. The one in Viren’s office, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, wasn’t like any other model he had ever seen. Interesting.

Ezran grinned as he looked up at Bait. “Bait, I think we’ve got some exploring to do if we’re going to figure out what that thing is.”

**< |>**

Runaan was definitely considering disowning her by the time Rayla finished her report. It had taken her time to locate the hiding spot, considering that she didn’t know the terrain and had wandered far from her original position in order to follow the stormtrooper and those princes, and it had been mid-afternoon by the time she saw Runaan again.

Then, of course, there came the ordeal of attempting to calm him down when she told him what had happened―or rather, what hadn’t happened. Rayla did have some experience in that area, considering that Runaan had raised her, but she’d never really messed up this  _ badly  _ before.

Runaan’d had to remove his helmet as he heard what she’d told him, his face as red as the leaves of a jogan fruit. He’d started to pace as well, and she saw his hands flexing on the handles of the blaster pistols at his waist multiple times. She knew better than to be threatened by that; like most Mandalorians, reaching for weapons was more of a comforting gesture for him than a threatening one.

Before she could get to the only good thing to come out of her little adventure that morning, Runaan held up a gloved hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other. 

“If I am understanding this correctly,” he said with a heavy sigh, his back straightening like it did right before he started to raise his voice, “you had a stormtrooper defenseless, at gunpoint, and you…let him go?”

Rayla blinked and crossed her arms. “Well, no, I stunned him, but―”

“And then he got away,” Runaan finished, raising his eyebrows at her. She could tell he was trying to keep his voice at a manageable level because of the other Mandalorians that were watching. “So, in essence, your decision not to kill him let him escape.”

She wanted to sink into the ground. She could feel the gazes of the other rebels in the clearing burning into her despite the helmets that covered their faces. She’d left her own helmet off so Runaan could see the sincerity in her face when she told her story, but now she thoroughly regretted it and wished she could hide her face in it. Instead, she did her best to keep her face stony, like Runaan’s, and took a breath to keep her voice steady when she spoke.

“Runaan,” she said, but her voice cracked rather embarrassingly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Runaan, that stormtrooper was afraid. How could I just…kill him? He was innocent!”

“No stormtrooper is innocent!” Runaan barked out. “And you had a job to do! I thought I trained you better than this!”

Rayla swallowed the lump in her throat. He had, in fact, trained her to do whatever it took to accomplish a mission. But that had been in  _ training, _ not…real life. Reality was…a lot different. Training droids were not people. Training droids didn’t have fear in their eyes when you pulled the trigger on them. 

Runaan opened his mouth to yell again, but Rayla needed to tell him the good news before he continued on with his lecture, otherwise she might never get the chance.

“I found a secret passage that leads into the castle.”

Rayla could  _ see _ whatever words Runaan had planned to say fall out of his mouth. She could also see the other Mandalorians in the group stand up straighter to pay attention, and had to fight to keep the satisfied smirk off her face.

“You…found a secret passage,” Runaan repeated.

“Yep.”

“Into the castle.”

“Yep.”

“And the stormtrooper does not know you followed him?”

“Correct.”

Some of the redness in Runaan’s face receded. “And how, exactly, did you discover this?”

Rayla winced. “The, uh…I followed the stormtrooper, and he led me to it.”

Runaan’s eye twitched. “You…had a second chance…to end this stormtrooper…and you didn’t take it?”

Rayla remembered quite vividly and without any warning the two boys who had been with the stormtrooper in question.

No. Her decision, at least at that portion of the problem, stood. She couldn’t have killed someone in front of a child. No one should have to be exposed to those sorts of things unless it was absolutely necessary, especially if that person was a child.

She decided to leave that part out. She wasn’t sure how Runaan―or the other Mandalorians, for that matter―would react. And if, stars forbid, they came across those two boys again during the infiltration, the information that Rayla had seen them before would make the others more likely to incapacitate the princes. She was most concerned about the young boy, and what would happen to him; she knew that being stunned, especially at that age, could be detrimental to development.

“And because of it, we now have a way into the castle that is far easier than climbing up the cliff for a frontal assault,” Rayla countered, willing as much confidence into her voice as she could, even if she didn’t feel it a bit.

It was a bit of a rough situation. On the one hand, the Imperials who occupied the castle knew that they were coming. On the other, the discovery of the secret passage would give them the upper hand, because the stormtroopers wouldn’t expect them to enter the castle from that route. It was up to Runaan to decide if those two facts balanced out.

Both of Runaan’s eyes began to twitch, more violently this time. But after a moment―during which, every other Mandalorian in the clearing leaned forward with bated breath to hear what he would say―he relented.

“Fine,” he said, finally slouching. “We will further discuss the repercussions for this  _ later. _ You can lead us to this secret entrance?”

Rayla nodded. “I know where it is.”

Runaan paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over his choice, before he nodded to himself and stood up straight once more. “Fine. When the sun sets, you’ll lead us to this secret entrance.”

A wild mixture of emotions exploded in Rayla’s chest. Pride, first of all, that she’d been given such an important task. Guilt, also, for she felt the angry glares the other Mandalorians were still giving her. Embarrassment followed, along with the urge to shrink into herself despite the achievement she’d somehow managed to make.

“Now,” Runaan said, looking over his shoulder at the other rebels standing in the clearing, “it is time for us to prepare the Program.”

Rayla frowned. She’d nearly forgotten about the  _ Program. _

The Program was a tradition that was unique to the Moonshadow clan of Mandalorians. Even before the massive wars that had taken place in the last century, Moonshadow Mandalorians had been valued for their battle prowess. As such, there’d been a tradition for as long as blasters had been in existence for Moonshadow Mandalorians to take part in the Program, a special ritual of sorts that guaranteed security for the Mandalorians no matter the outcome of the upcoming battle. Not many took part in the Program anymore; most battles were spontaneous and couldn’t be prepared for. But missions like this one were of a special importance.

Rayla’s nerves kicked into even higher gear as the other Mandalorians in the group―all of them fully armored and wearing their helmets―moved to stand in a circle. She went to follow them and then remembered to reattach her helmet on her head at the last moment. She took her place in the circle and watched Runaan out of the corner of her eye. He’d put his helmet back on as well, and seemed to be taking a moment to center himself.

His armor was really quite similar to hers, which made sense since he was the one who had raised her, but it had far more scratches and battle scars than hers. It was admirable and desirable for a Mandalorian to have such experience, which was why Runaan had been selected to lead the mission.

Runaan straightened and walked to the edge of the circle, lifting his voice so that he would be clearly all around.

“Three weeks ago, on our moon Oberon, the Imperials raided the rebel base. In the process, they destroyed Thunder, and the last hope for the rebellion.”

Rayla felt herself scowl at the statement. Even though it was considered top secret, most of the rebellion knew about Thunder’s project, or at least that it was supposed to be some sort of key weapon against the Empire. Some people had even started to refer to it as the “last hope” of the rebellion, even though they had no clue what it was. Not even Runaan knew what Thunder’s project had been, and if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have told her. The most any of them knew was that Thunder had been a great inventor who’d been recruited by the rebellion a long time ago.

“The Empire also murdered many of our kin in the process, and ravaged our home.”

_ That _ definitely struck a chord among many of the gathered Mandalorians, and Rayla was no exception. Many Moonshadow Mandalorians had allied themselves with the rebellion, and those who hadn’t had left Oberon a long time ago. So when the Empire had attacked the moon to get to Thunder…many, many Mandalorians had died in the process.

Rayla had been lucky. She’d been on the other side of the moon at the time, busy with a training exercise under Runaan. They’d heard the screams, and had come running, but by then it had been too late…

Fortunately, Runaan began speaking again before the memories could begin to overwhelm her. Three weeks wasn’t even close to the time she needed to forget those things. She wasn’t sure if she ever would.

“But tonight we will have justice!”

Rayla forced herself to pay attention as Runaan lifted up the small transmitter for all the gathered Mandalorians to see. It was a small cube, not very special in design. Yet everyone in the circle knew of its significance. She steeled herself and forced her back to straighten as Runaan fixed his helmet on his head and placed the transmitter in the center of the circle.

“The Program will ensure our security, in victory or defeat.”

Every Mandalorian in the clearing clenched a fist and pounded it over their heart, as was tradition. Then Runaan pressed a button on his vambrace, and the transmitter began to glow.

Rayla had never really been a fan of her implant. She didn’t really use it much, and to be honest, she forgot it was there most of the time. But for the Moonshadow Mandalorians, implants were part of their way of life. Many of the members of the clan used their implants to make aiming easier, or even to surf the holonet. But Rayla had been raised―both by her parents and by Runaan―to rely more on her own skills than anything an implant could make easier for her. But the Program was one function of her implant that she could not refuse this time around.

Rayla took a deep breath as she heard a humming nearby that she knew wasn’t coming from any outside source. She could vaguely see the other Mandalorians straighten as they heard the same thing that she did, but she was more distracted by the sudden HUD feed that popped up in her field of vision.

Yet another reason why she didn’t like her implant. It had a habit of showing information in her line of sight that she couldn’t get rid of no matter where she looked. This particular one only had a few words in orange printed across her field of vision:

_ ACTIVATE PROGRAM? _

Runaan hesitated for a moment, looking over each and every Mandalorian. His helmeted gaze lingered on Rayla for but a moment before he pressed another button on his vambrace, and the transmitter in the center of the circle glowed a bright orange.

_ PROGRAM ACTIVATED. TERMINATING SYNCHRONIZED SIGNAL. _

Rayla gave a little sigh as the HUD feed disappeared and she was able to see clearly again. The other Mandalorians in the clearing did the same. That was the way the transmitter worked; it temporarily linked all of their implants together in order to download the Program, then disconnected them. It was all very methodical and thought out; after all, the Program had been around for millennia, as a way to keep precious Mandalorian information out of enemy hands.

Runaan stepped forward and stared at the transmitter for a moment. Then he pulled one of his pistols out of their holsters and blasted it to bits.

“It is done,” he said, straightening so that he could look at everyone gathered around him. “Now we wait for sunset.”

It didn’t escape Rayla that her mentor looked right at her as he spoke.

She had one last chance to get things right.

**< |>**

Callum stood outside his mother’s room and frowned, hands on the strap across his shoulders that held his sketchbook. It had…been a while since he’d been inside, really. The brief time he’d been in there that morning didn’t really count.

Now, as the sun was setting outside, Callum felt a tug on his heart as he stood outside the door. It was a different feeling than what he’d been experiencing all day…much less like anxiety or a feeling of danger and much more like he was missing something, and the missing puzzle piece was inside his mother’s room.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed in there. After all, he was still a prince, even if he wasn’t set to inherit the throne (thank goodness for that; he was  _ not  _ cut out to be a ruler). And he’d been in there just that very morning, at the insistence of the captain of the stormtroopers situated at the castle.

So why was he so hesitant to enter the room?

He used to go there all the time when he was younger, after his mother’s death. He’d always felt like he’d needed to sneak in, but in truth none of the guards had ever tried to stop him. Callum would sit on his mother’s bed for hours, sometimes doing nothing at all, or other times trying to sketch her likeness while he could still remember what she looked like without looking at a holoimage. But as he’d gotten older, he’d stopped going as much, partly because of all of the training and education he’d been assigned as a prince, and partly because the room seemed have a concentrated version of her presence, and the older he grew the more it hurt him that she was no longer around.

He was lucky he had Ezran. Every day, he saw more and more of his mother in him. What Callum could remember, anyway.

Callum sighed and ran a hand down his face. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to go back into his mother’s old bedroom; it had been four years since he’d last been inside. He’d been Ezran’s age.

But…well, Callum did need a minute to  _ breathe _ , after everything that had happened that day, and his mother had always been a calming presence for him. And no one would be likely to interrupt while he took a moment to get his head on straight, which was really ideal. And…and he still missed his mother, after all.

Callum swallowed and pressed the button to open the door.

As he had been earlier that morning, he was struck by how similar everything was to how he remembered it. It had been a common occurrence for him to visit the bedroom that Harrow and Sarai shared when he was a young child because he’d had a nightmare, so he was really quite familiar with the room’s layout and decorations. He knew the maroon carpet on the floor like the back of his hand, for he had spent a great deal of time as a child running his fingers through it. And he knew the matching curtains as well, because he’d lost many a game of hide-and-seek by hiding behind them.

In truth, the former bedroom of his parents was very sparsely furnished. His mother had been a woman with simple tastes, and insisted on not carrying too many belongings around with her. Still, the bed was of a good quality, even if there was a bit of dust on the covers, and the dressers and bedside tables were made from the finest Katolis wood.

Callum let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as he stepped inside the room and the door automatically slid shut behind him. Instinctively, he looked up toward the rafters, where the secret exit from the castle was. He couldn’t see it because of the shadows in the dimly lit room, but he did see the nearby ladder that they’d used earlier that morning. It wasn’t unusual for there to be secret passages in the walls of castles; after all, they provided royalty with a chance to escape in the event of an attack. After King Harrow had moved out of the old bedroom he used to share with his wife (presumably to avoid the painful memories, as Callum had tried to do), he’d secretly had another passage installed in his new bedroom as well.

Callum ran a hand through his hair and carefully stepped over to the bed, his footsteps soft and mostly silent. He hesitated for just a moment before he sat on the bed, and he was surprised when it creaked and dipped more than it had when he’d been younger. He supposed it was only natural; after all, he was nearly seventeen, and no longer had the physique of a child, even if he was still a bit scrawny.

Once again, he hesitated for a moment as he saw the nearest bedside table. He wondered if it was still there, after all these years…

He reached for it and opened the small drawer. The room was completely silent as he stared down at the small device that was still kept there. Even the strange feelings he’d been experiencing all day dissipated for a moment as they waited for him to make a move.

Callum exhaled shakily as his fingers reached for the holoprojector. He took another deep breath, and turned on the device. An image of his mother lit up the room.

“Well,” he said to no one in particular as he stared at it, “this is harder than I thought it was going to be.”

It had been years since he’d seen an image of his mother. It wasn’t like there weren’t many around; Harrow was a loving husband even after her death, and he kept many portraits and holoimages of her around the castle. And it wasn’t like Callum had been actively avoiding the pictures; he was just busy with many activities that he had almost no interest in, and as a result hardly had time to even get to each of his lessons. Callum was not thrilled with the life of a prince.

Callum pulled his knees up to his chest as he looked at the holoimage. Servants sometimes told him that he had some of his mother’s features, which was comforting but somewhat confusing. When he was very,  _ very _ young, he somehow remembered his mother whispering to him that he looked a lot like his father. But Callum had never known his father, and the only features he could find in his face were his mother’s.

She’d had kind, brown eyes, ones that he always remembered her staring warmly down at him. She’d started wearing her hair in a bun when she began courting Harrow, but Callum vaguely remembered when she’d had it in braids when he was too young to remember much else. And, of course, he remembered the mole under her eye, because he’d always poke it to get a giggle out of her.

They were fond memories, but that didn’t mean they hurt any less. He didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear slipped off his cheek and onto his knee.

Frustrated―for he certainly had not come into the room to cry―Callum wiped his face as he dropped his knees down to the floor.

_ Clunk. _

He paused in the middle of wiping his face with his sleeve. He didn’t remember the floorboards making any sort of noise like that before. Curiously, he leaned over to look down at the floor. He lifted up a foot and then put it back down.

_ Creeeak. _ The floorboard under his foot gave a little.

Callum frowned as he looked down at the wooden floor. It was probably just because the room had not been probably tended to in a few years, coupled with the fact that he was bigger now and thus the floor would be weaker under his feet. But there was that strange feeling in his gut again, like something important was happening. 

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the creaking floorboard. It was probably nothing…but hadn’t his mother always encouraged him to trust his instincts? Besides, who would it hurt if he just took a look? At worst, a servant would catch him peering into the crack between floorboards.

Callum sighed to himself as he slid off the bed and got on his knees to investigate the creaky floorboard. Once again, the room was deathly silent as he pushed down on the questionable piece of wood.

_ Creeeeaak. _

He frowned again, deeper than before. When he pushed down, he thought he felt the wood give enough to feel something underneath…

Curiously, he tried lifting the board up instead, more to see if the board would creak again. Instead, there was a loud  _ snap! _ as the board broke in two and half of it came off the floor in his hands.

Callum’s eyes widened in panic as he looked at the splintered board in his hands. He hadn’t meant to do that at all! He’d barely even lifted the board upward! He hadn’t meant to break anything!

Frantically, he tried to fix the board back over the broken area, but it didn’t fit back over it the way it was supposed to. That didn’t stop him from attempting to jam it back into place, feeling his heart rate spike as he realized that it would not fit in the same way that it had before.

_ “Ow!” _ Callum exclaimed as pain pricked his finger. He dropped the half of the wooden board and jerked his hand away to peer at it. He’d been so panicked about the broken board that he’d given himself a splinter!

He scowled and tried to pry the splinter out with his fingers, but only succeeded in driving the piece of wood further in. Callum cursed under his breath and put his finger in his mouth, trying to somehow bite the splinter to get it out.

As he struggled with the splinter, his eyes landed on the space where half of the wooden board had formerly been. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, there seemed to be a small space under where the board had been before…and something was inside it.

Callum blinked as his hand dropped from his mouth. He leaned forward to peer inside the small compartment―which seemed to be man-made and not a natural hole under the floor, judging by the grooves on the sides―only to discover a small book inside.

Splinter now completely forgotten, he reached a hand inside to withdraw the book, the silence of the room almost suffocating. The book was a dusty thing, and seemed to bleed old dirt particles as he held it up. It seemed to be several years old, with a leather-bound cover and a…strange, worn symbol on the front. 

The symbol itself had wings on either side, along with what seemed to be some sort of blade protruding from the middle. For some reason that he couldn’t really explain, it seemed eerily familiar, though he couldn’t really remember where he’d seen it before.

“Why would this be here?” Callum muttered to himself, turning the book over to look at the pages. They were yellowed with age and seemed a little brittle, so he opened the book with infinite care.

Books were a rare occurrence, really. Most people preferred to use their datapads for reading, or even using the holonet to search for holonovels. Callum was already a bit of an outlier in that he preferred to use paper and pencil for his sketches. He just didn’t understand why a book like this would be hidden in his mother’s room, and the inside pages didn’t hold much answers.

It appeared to be a journal of some sort, with words scribbled in with black ink. The handwriting didn’t seem to match his mother’s; he would recognize it anywhere. She used to write him little notes when he was a kid to help him whenever he felt anxious about something.

Callum’s frown deepened as he flipped through the journal. The pages were filled with paragraphs and paragraphs of cramped words clumped together, like the person who’d written the journal was attempting to fit a lot of information in a very limited space. He caught a few words as he flipped through the pages. Words like  _ “robes,” “initiate,” “council,”  _ and…

…and “ _ Jedi.” _

This was the journal of a Jedi.

Oh, this was  _ really  _ not good.

“Callum?”

_ BANG! _

Callum’s head slammed into the bottom of the bed as he jumped guiltily, and the journal mercifully slid under the mattress as he scrambled to his feet, clutching his head.

King Harrow stood in the doorway.

Oh, Callum was in big trouble.

**< |>**

The Mandalorians were as silent as rock mice as they crept through the forest, Rayla and Runaan in the lead. Rayla’s stomach was curdling with nervousness as she led the way, hoping that she was remembering the path correctly.

If she messed this up, the whole mission would be scrapped, and she would never be allowed on another one ever again. They were already taking enough risks as it was; they didn’t need Rayla screwing everything up two times in a row.

She began to breathe a little easier when they reached the spot where she’d tied that stormtrooper (she found it easier not to use his name) to a tree. Even if she had forgotten the way to the secret tunnel, there were plenty of tracks from the three boys to help guide the way.

She snuck a few glances at Runaan as they made their way to the secret passage. For most people, it would have been impossible to guess his mood when he was wearing his full set of armor, but Rayla was very practiced at it. She could tell from his movements that he was still upset about her earlier screwup, but the way he was silent about it suggested that he was willing to put it aside, at least for the time being, especially if this tip that Rayla had uncovered panned out.

So, in short, there was a lot riding on her.

Which was why she found it so alarming that there were absolutely no stormtroopers patrolling the woods. She’d been put in that alarming situation with the stormtrooper  _ because _ there had been so many the day before, but now there weren’t any.

She supposed it made sense, in a way. If the Imperials did indeed know that the Mandalorians were coming―which they undoubtedly did, because of her mistake―it would make sense for them to withdraw all of their troops to the castle in order to better defend their king. Still…she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Judging from the way the other Mandalorians were moving, they felt it too.

Rayla cringed as they reached the fork in the road that led to the hidden tunnel. None of that would even be a factor if she hadn’t messed up so royally. She should have just shot the stormtrooper while his helmet was still on to get it over with.

Runaan held up a hand, and she stopped. She sensed the other Mandalorians do the same.

“Rayla,” Runaan said, his voice too quiet to be heard aloud but coming in loud and clear through the commlink connected to her helmet, “this is where the path heads toward the tunnel, correct?”

Rayla nodded. She’d been unable to follow the princes and the stormtrooper further earlier in the day because the cover there was so thin, but it seemed to be a relatively straight shot from where the path jutted off into the woods. She just hoped she’d be able to find wherever the entrance to the secret passage was.

Runaan seemed to be lost in thought as he stared down the fork in the path. After a moment, he turned to Rayla and the rest of the Mandalorians. He was hidden behind a tree, and the dappled green and dark blue of his armor made him hard to see until her eyes adjusted.

“Rayla,” he said again. “Because you know this path best, you will scout it for the rest of us. It could be a trap, so I want you to be as careful as possible and signal us if anything goes wrong. This is a defensible position, so the rest of us will wait here.”

Several Mandalorians shifted all at once, like they were uncomfortable with his decision. In truth, Rayla was too. Why was he trusting her with something so important when she’d messed up so thoroughly before?

The answer was, of course, that he was giving her the important task  _ because  _ she had made such a large mistake before. If she could make sure this one part was done right, then she would have redeemed herself, if only partly. Anything that she could do to lessen the burdens that their group of Mandalorians would face would lessen her punishment and the lack of face that she would earn on their arrival back home.

_ If _ they got back home.

Rayla immediately berated herself for thinking that way. She couldn’t afford to think like that, not with everything still ahead of them. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it; all they could do now was focus on the task at hand.

So she nodded at Runaan, despite the whirlwind of emotions in her chest, and she ignored the movements of the others behind her. All she could do was focus on the task in front of her; take things one step at a time. It was what she was raised to do.

“I won’t let you down,” she managed to say.

As she ran off toward the direction of the tunnel, she thought she heard Runaan utter the words, “We’ll see.”

Rayla sighed as she turned on the flashlight on the outside of her helmet, making sure to put it on the lowest setting. It was a risk to use it, but she needed to be able to see the tracks from those boys to know where exactly she was going.

It took some time―longer than she would have liked―but she had to be sure that she wasn’t making any more mistakes. Eventually, however, she managed to reach a spot where the tracks simply…disappeared. She was only confused until she realized that the leaves and pine needles that she was standing on seemed a little  _ too _ well placed. Considering the thin placement of trees nearby, there was no logical reason why there should be so much fallen foliage in one place.

Rayla only hesitated for a moment before she kneeled down and began clearing away the leaves and pine needles with her hands. She had to turn up her flashlight just a notch to be able to see better, and when she did, she could just barely make out the handle of an old wooden door, smeared with mud so that it would be camouflaged.

She tugged hard on the handle, letting out a soft curse when she had to exert more force than she was expecting and nearly slipped into the mud. At some point―she wasn’t exactly sure  _ when _ , so focused she’d been on following the tracks―it had started to rain again. Lightning lit up the night just like it had twenty-four hours before.

The door creaked open loudly, and Rayla put a hand on one of her pistols as she looked around the forest to make sure that there were no stormtroopers nearby who could have heard her. When she was sure the coast was clear, she turned her attention to the open tunnel below her.

It appeared to be moderately aged, though completely manmade, judging from the way the passage was shaped. She marked her location on her vambrace before hopping inside.

She could smell the mustiness of the tunnel even with her helmet on. Still, it was an improvement from being out in the rain. Rayla drew one of her blaster pistols and turned the flashlight on her helmet up to full as she began to explore the tunnel.

“Runaan,” she said, activating her commlink after a few minutes of walking. “I’m in the tunnel, but I haven’t seen any Imperials yet. How are things on your end?”

She managed to reach a right turn in the tunnel before he responded, his voice combined with static.

“Rayla,” Runaan’s voice came. “Your connection is patchy. How far into the tunnel are you?”

That was one of the issues with communicators; they had a hard time working when you were underground. The one she’d been given had to be especially finicky, considering that she was barely even that far under the surface. Granted, the path had been gently sloping downward, but that still shouldn’t have caused a problem…

“I’ve barely started,” she replied. “It could be a problem with my commlink.”

“Impossible. We….khhz…checked before the mission. Check the conditions…khzz…your vambrace.”

Rayla frowned as she stopped her walking and fiddled with her vambrace. Hers was still relatively new, but she knew how to work it well enough. All Mandalorian vambraces were programmed with a variety of features―and weapons, depending on how experienced one was―to provide aid. While hers lacked the more…violent upgrades, she still had a few tools she could use to assess her situation.

She squinted at the readouts for a moment before her frown returned. “That’s…weird. There’s some kind of interference right above me, but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s not the tunnel.”

Runaan paused. “That  _ is _ strange.” 

A loud burst of static startled her, and she jerked in surprise, nearly hitting her head on the stone wall next to her. When she was able to hear Runaan clearly again, he was already halfway through another sentence.

“…be scrambling communications.”

Rayla frowned for probably the hundredth time that hour alone. “Runaan, can you repeat? I didn’t get that.”

“Kzzzt…keep going….kzzh….they could be….kzzzht….communications.”

It took her a minute to piece together what exactly Runaan had meant.  _ Keep going, they could be scrambling communications. _ It was certainly a possibility, considering that they did know the Mandalorians were coming. But if it were true, the scrambling signal would be much signal. Rayla wouldn’t be able to hear Runaan at all. Still, it was also possible that the device they were using was several years old and not as effective as modern scramblers. Katolis was known for repurposing technology from the Clone Wars. And if  _ that  _ was the case, then she should be grateful; any signal she sent out for Runaan to know the coast was clear would likely be received, if only barely.

Rayla deactivated her commlink and drew her other pistol as she turned a corner. The tunnels were as she thought; old, and carved on purpose. She was no expert on castles, since she’d never so much as been near one before, but it made sense for an old one like this to have old tunnels. Generations of royalty had lived inside, which meant that generations of royalty had probably wanted a few emergency escape routes. Judging from the lack of activity in this one, however, it seemed to be abandoned.

She kept in mind what that Callum boy had said earlier in the day. “ _ It’s a bit dangerous,” _ he’d claimed. She couldn’t help but wonder why.

Rayla squinted at the walls of the tunnel. They appeared to be a bit damp, and reflected a little light from her flashlight. By this point, she’d been walking for almost half-an hour, which meant that she had to be fairly deep underground since the tunnels had been heading steadily downward the whole time.

She could tell she’d reached the end of the tunnel when she could see a bit of light up ahead that didn’t appear to be natural. She slowed her footsteps and holstered one of her blasters so she could flip her rangefinder down to zoom in a little.

Rayla was starting to get really unnerved by the sight of no guards once again. She’d figured that the royals would at least set out a security droid. But there was nothing at the end of the tunnel, from what she could tell, except for an old rope that reached upwards for quite a distance.

It was by pure chance that she managed to put her rangefinder up in time to watch where she was stepping. Rayla hopped back instinctively the moment she saw the white line of scraped rock in the tunnel floor. It was not a moment too soon, for a giant durasteel razor slashed out from its hiding space in the wall with a deafening scratching sound, reaching as far as the other wall of the tunnel before it retreated back to its original spot.

Ah. So  _ that’s _ what the prince had meant by “dangerous.”

Rayla took a moment to assess, noting several other white lines in the floor. There had to be some sort of pressure plate under the stone that would activate the razors, for none of the other ones had activated because of her fumble. She made a note to tell Runaan and the others about the traps when their communications were no longer jammed.

She didn’t have any time to waste, so she took a risk. Carefully, and with as much force as her legs could muster, Rayla jumped over the white line in the ground.

She landed clumsily on the other side, and nearly stumbled right over the next marked booby trap. It was a good thing that none of the other Mandalorians were around, for they never would have let her live down the loud squeaking noise she made as she scrambled backwards.

Luckily, she managed to regain her footing without triggering any more of the traps. And once she understood how far she actually had to jump, it was much easier to cross the rest of the tunnel unharmed. The rope at the end of the passage, however, was another story entirely.

It seemed to reach up for a considerable distance, and like the rest of the tunnel, it appeared to be very old. It was a miracle the traps were even still functional, and Rayla especially didn’t like the frayed look of the rope. She wondered briefly how that stormtrooper and the two princes had even managed to use it before she remembered that as a captain, the stormtrooper probably would have had an automatic grappling hook to make things easier for both himself and the two weaker princes he’d been traveling with that afternoon. Rayla, on the other hand, had no such tool and as such would be stuck with the sketchy-looking rope.

She sighed. At least if she fell to her death and didn’t come back to the others, Runaan and the Mandalorians would know that the tunnel wasn’t safe.

She probably shouldn’t have chuckled at that. She did anyway.

As Rayla started to climb the rope, placing one hand over the other as she ascended, she found herself wondering what the other Mandalorians were even doing. She had been gone for some time; surely they hadn’t been waiting for her the whole time. If they had, it would throw off the whole plan of attack. Well, more than it had already been thrown off by her.

Besides, she reflected grimly, it was probably a good thing for them to wait a little bit. The Imperials would be expecting them to attack as soon as the sun went down, which indeed had been their plan. The longer they waited, the more thrown-off the Imperial forces would be. So really, the fact that she was taking so long to explore this tunnel was a good thing. It would take the other Mandalorians at least an hour to catch up with her, which meant another hour that the stormtroopers would be left guessing, jumpy and on high alert.

It was a small comfort, but that line of thinking did make her feel better. Even if her arms were beginning to burn from the constant rate at which she was climbing up the rope, at least she felt marginally better about their prospects. Maybe she hadn’t  _ completely  _ ruined their chances of accomplishing their mission. Maybe.

The longer she climbed, the more she found her mind wandering to things  _ not  _ related to their mission. She’d often had to do exercises just like this; climbing ropes and leaping over obstacles and more of the like. At least on Oberon, there’d been a view when she’d trained. Here, there was nothing but her laborious breathing in her helmet and the tediousness of the rock wall in front of her.

Katolis was  _ boring. _ Would it kill them to put something interesting in their tunnels, other than a few booby traps and a musty rope? Even a tapestry or two would be more enthralling.

It took  _ forever _ ―and more than a few almost-falls that set her already tumultuous heart racing―but eventually she managed to reach the top of the tunnel. She wasn’t even sure how the long rope was even practical; perhaps when the tunnel was originally built, the person who’d intended on using it had been very agile and had been perfectly comfortable sliding down a rope for long periods of time. But the rope and the tunnel as a whole was long past its prime, which was no doubt why it had been abandoned some time ago.

Rayla groaned softly as she swung onto the ledge at the very top of the tunnel, collapsing onto the rock floor. She counted herself lucky that neither the rope nor her arms had collapsed. She was used to long climbs, of course. Just not long climbs in a stuffy tunnel wearing full armor and already partially exhausted from hiking.

She gave herself about two minutes to catch her breath before she dragged herself to her feet, massaging her arms. Fortunately, they wouldn’t be sore for long; she could already feel her implant pumping pain-reducing chemicals through her body. It was one of the few features she’d left turned on. There was no point in forcing herself to suffer if she didn’t have to.

Rayla removed her helmet for just a moment so she could wipe sweat out of her eyes. Runaan would  _ love  _ that rope. The others…not so much.

She fixed her helmet back on her head and turned off her flashlight. There was a dim yellow lighting ahead―like the lights she’d expect to be on the inside of a castle―and she didn’t want to give away her position. After all the work she’d done, she’d better have gotten at least close to the end of the tunnel.

She drew her blasters again as she crept down what she hoped was the final part of the passage. She was getting tired of having them out but not using them, even if they were still on the stun setting.

For once, she didn’t have to walk far. The light at the end of the tunnel was far closer than it appeared, and seemed to lead to a simple dark curtain. Rayla felt her brow furrow as she approached it. If there was another trap waiting, she would rather accept whatever punishment Runaan had in store for her. There was sure to be one, especially with how long this was taking her.

Rayla held her breath as she moved part of the curtain out of the way, peering into the room beyond―or, more accurately, below.

The secret passage…appeared to open up into the rafters of some old bedroom. Clearly, when the tunnel had first been constructed, the royals who’d been in power had had no qualms about climbing and getting their hands dirty. Now that she thought about it, she thought she remembered the older prince mentioning something about that. She’d been so focused on the fact that there  _ was _ a secret tunnel that she’d forgotten about where it let out.

Which seemed to be  _ another  _ one of her mistakes, considering that said prince was  _ standing in the room right below her. _

Rayla would have cursed if he hadn’t been within earshot. Not only was the prince waiting in the room―his back to her, hands clutched awkwardly behind his back―but he was standing in front of  _ the king of the entire planet, _ who was also the  _ target  _ of the whole mission.

King Harrow was a tall, imposing man, though he appeared to be smiling kindly at the prince. He wore a golden circlet on his head, one that formed the uneven towers that formed the royal symbol. He wore clothes accented with burgundy and gold, which she recognized as the royal family’s colors. He had hair set back in dreadlocks, and kind green eyes that shined down at his stepson.

Rayla’s hands clenched on the handles of her blaster pistols. She could accomplish the mission right now, while they were both unaware, and have no Mandalorian casualties. She could fully make up for her mistake from earlier.

But could she really kill this man in front of his own step-son?

The answer was the same as it had been that afternoon. She wouldn’t expose someone to the horrors of grief and war unless it was absolutely necessary. There would be other chances to accomplish their mission that night; Runaan didn’t need to know how close she came to accomplishing it herself. The best she could do now was wait for an opening, either for the prince the leave the room and leave her with the king, or for them both to leave so she could finish scouting out the room and make sure it was safe for the rest of the Mandalorians. But nonetheless, she kept her pistols out and aimed. It didn’t hurt to be careful.

Rayla hoped Runaan was doing better than she was.

**< |>**

Outside the tunnel, in the forest of Katolis where the Mandalorians waited, blaster fire erupted.

**< |>**

“What are you doing in here?” Harrow asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow that suggested he knew  _ exactly  _ why Callum was in there.

But all Callum could think of was the dangerous book under the bed. He knew his relationship with Harrow was a bit awkward, for he’d never really known how to act around the man, but he knew that Harrow loved him and would never turn him in for something like that. It was the other stormtroopers around the castle that Callum didn’t trust. If they even caught a whiff of the word Jedi and his name in the same sentence, they’d turn him in for the reward on the spot. The Jedi had all been supposedly wiped out, but everyone knew that some had survived and were well in hiding. Callum knew better than most, considering how often Claudia’s lightsaber collection was updated.

“Um―uh―” Callum swallowed and tried his best to form a coherent sentence. “I was…I was just…” He sighed. “I was trying to catch my breath in here. I’ve been feeling kind of…off all day.” That, at least, was true. Callum didn’t like lying, especially not to the people that he cared about.

Harrow’s kind expression transformed into one of worry as he stepped forward. He knew all about Callum’s struggles with anxiety. “Is everything okay?”

It took every ounce of will Callum possessed for his eyes not to flick over to the mattress. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could still sense the book underneath, just waiting for him to pick it up again. Instead, he chose to sit on top of the bed, his feet positioned right over where he knew the Jedi’s journal was hiding.

“I don’t know,” Callum answered, once again being perfectly honest. “Everything just kind of…seems like a lot today. I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.”

Harrow’s brows knit together in sympathy, and the king sat next to Callum on the bed, careful to leave a bit of distance between them. It was always like that; Callum wasn’t sure how to act around Harrow, even though he loved him like he was his true father, and it seemed that Harrow didn’t really know how to act around him either. Callum had never really been sure how to bridge the gap, and it bothered him more than he’d care to admit.

“I know life in the castle can be fairly hectic,” Harrow started. “And I know that you couldn’t care less about most of your lessons.”

“That’s not true!” Callum protested, then hesitated. “Well, about most of them. Some of them are…interesting?”

Harrow chuckled. “Believe me, I know. I had to endure the same lessons when I was your age, though things were a bit…different back then.”

Callum chuckled at that. When Harrow had been Callum’s age, the Clone Wars hadn’t even happened yet. The galaxy had been at peace, for the most part. He wondered what that would have been like, living your life without having to worry about the Empire at your elbow at every turn.

It was no secret, at least among those who lived in the castle, that Harrow didn’t really have control over his own planet. Callum knew that his stepfather did what he could to help out those who lived on the planet, but in truth no one would ever tell Callum if Harrow’s efforts were successful. All he knew was that the Empire gave Harrow the credit for most operations, though he wasn’t really sure as to why.

“So my point,” Harrow continued, “is that I understand if you need to take a few breathers now and then. And this is as good a place as any to do it.”

He looked over at the bedside table, where the holoimage of Sarai, which was still visible and projecting on top of the little stand. Callum watched Harrow’s eyes fill with grief for a moment before they turned back to him.

“Your…” Harrow cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your mother would be very proud of you, Callum. And I’m sorry that you’re expected to do all of these things that you clearly have no interest in.”

Callum smiled ruefully. His mother had been one of the few people, other than Harrow, who supported his interests as a child. Harrow and Sarai had both given him the sketchbook at his waist, and he still had a few of the other art supplies that they’d gotten him as well.

“And, um…” Harrow started to add, and Callum couldn’t resist another small smile. It wasn’t often that the king was at a loss for words. “You’re…I’m…” The older man took a breath and opened his mouth to finish.

“Your Highness!” a sudden voice interjected.

Harrow turned, looking frustrated. The door to the room had slid open without either of them noticing, and a fully armored stormtrooper stood at the entrance to the room. Callum recognized him as Soren after a moment because of the orange collar on his armor (that, and the remaining grass stains). Callum took it as a bad sign that Soren was wearing his helmet; he usually avoided wore it unless something dangerous was afoot. Harrow knew it as well, and the blaster rifle that Soren carried in his hands seemed to confirm it.

“What is it, Captain?” Harrow demanded, standing from off the bed. His kingly composure quickly returned, his back straightening and his voice booming across the room.

“My king,” Soren’s voice said, slightly distorted by the speakers in his helmet. “There’s been a security breach. You need to come with me.”

Callum watched Harrow’s brow furrow and the gears in his head begin to turn. Callum was just as confused; there hadn’t been an attack on Katolis Castle since before the Clone Wars. Who would be attacking now, and why?

“Callum,” Harrow said, putting a hand on his step-son’s shoulder. “Stay here. You’ll be safe. No one will think to look her, and you can use the tunnel if you need to.”

Callum opened his mouth to protest, but immediately thought better of it when he saw Harrow’s stern look and the way Soren was shifting anxiously in the background. The more Callum argued, the less time Harrow had to get to safety. So in the end, he only nodded and stayed where he was, no matter how much he wanted to accompany his step-father.

“Thank you.” Harrow turned back to Soren. “Let’s go, Soren.”

Callum watched as the king and the stormtrooper departed, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was happening. There weren’t any rebels on Katolis that he’d heard of, since he made a habit of listening to the holonews to try and learn what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy. Still, this could be the first rebel attack…

Callum forced himself to take several breaths and tried to focus on staying relaxed. Everything would be fine; even if he didn’t like the stormtroopers at the castle, he had to admit that they were very good at their jobs. They would make sure that Harrow was safe from any outside forces that wished to do him harm. Although, it was strange that none of the alarms in the castle had been triggered yet…

He was already thinking too much about it. Didn’t he have enough things to worry about? That awful feeling in the pit of his stomach had returned full force, he had the book under the bed, and―

Oh. The book was still under the bed. He should…probably move that while he was still alone. And besides, giving it a look would take his mind off all the other bad things to worry about.

It was a very simple thing to lean over and feel around under the bed with his right hand. His fingers closed around the journal within moments, and as he brought it up, he found his eyes landing on the holoimage of his mother on the bedside table. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering why this book was in his mother’s old bedroom. Did Harrow even know about it? Hell, had Sarai even known about it? Maybe someone in the castle had hidden it here because they knew that the room was hardly ever ventured into.

Callum sighed and leaned back up, his eyes trailing absently around the room. There was too much for him to think about, and he’d rather take time to think about it when he didn’t have a million other things demanding his attention. Most notably, the attack on the―

His heart jerked in his chest as he thought he saw the smallest movement at the top of the room. His gaze instantly snapped over and he barely had a moment to realize that that’s where the secret exit from the castle was located before…

Before he saw the woman in teal woman armor from his dreams crouching at the entrance to the secret tunnel, pointing two blaster pistols directly at his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, ok, that was a lot! I normally don’t write chapters that are that long, I promise. There was a lot to squeeze into this first chapter, but it’s not over yet. Thanks to all of those who managed to make it to the end! So for this au, I am planning on having it be a mix of the original trilogy of star wars and TDP. I have no guarantees on when the second chapter will be uploaded, since we’ve just entered finals season AND I was put in the orchestra pit for the musical at the school, plus I also want to make sure I upload the next chapter of my other TDP au, The Boy with the Moon Rune Tattoo (shameless plug, I must admit). Also, many questions you have will be answered in later chapters, so please bear with me :^)
> 
> And if anyone is interested, I have a few drawings (though I am in no way an artist) of the characters for this au and what they’d look like on my twitter, @noname4hire_ao3. And a big thank you to my beta, skymagemar (who has an awesome story called In Our Heads you should all check out) for enduring all 17,000 words of this chapter! Until next time, enjoy!


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